


Stuffy

by TheMockingJ3



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Claustrophobia?, Effects of the common cold, F/M, Reference to some trauma as a result of Spectre’s Call, Though not in great detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 10:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19392055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingJ3/pseuds/TheMockingJ3
Summary: Brenda has a cold but refuses to accept it.





	Stuffy

**Author's Note:**

> Set: Sometime after PL4.  
> Spoilers: Vaguely for PL4.

** Stuffy **

There was a cough from the kitchen.

Clark paused, his morning mug of coffee poised below his lips. He listened with the same vigilance that their neighbour’s Labrador reserved for the postman. 

Another cough, fainter this time, followed by a sniff.

Clark’s eyes narrowed. “Brenda,” he called knowingly. 

For a moment, suspicious silence was his only response. Then, a stuffy-sounding, “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“‘M fine!” 

He put his mug on the parlour table loudly and stood up. He heard Brenda rush to the bathroom, slam the door and lock it. 

He followed and pressed his ear against the door. She was blowing her nose. 

Clark hummed. “Sounds like you’ve got an elephant in there...”

Brenda’s words came out muffled. “Go  _away_ , Clark. M’ trying to get ready.”

“Well, I’ll need to use the bathroom at some point.” He leant with his back against the door. “I’ll just wait here until you’re done-“ 

The door opened behind him. He stumbled backwards and turned to smirk triumphantly at Brenda. 

His expression softened when he saw how red her nose was, accented by the paleness of her skin. He was reminded of a time in university, many years ago, when the poor thing pulled three all-nighters in a row. 

“You’re ill,” he pointed out. That explained why she had slept in the guest room- so he wouldn’t hear her suffering. (Nothing to do with the fact that he’d forgotten to collect that book she wanted from the library...) 

Yesterday evening, she had looked peaky when she got home, but he had just assumed she was exhausted. 

“Really?” Brenda snorted. “I hadn’t noticed...” Her nose started running again. She made a weak grab for the toilet roll. 

“Don’t keep using  _that_ ,”  Clark chided, as if he’d spotted Luke using his sleeve for a hanky. He took her by the hand and led her out of the bathroom. “I’ll ask Doland to get you some nice soft tissues-“ 

“Doland went to the gym after he dropped Luke.” (Where did that man find time for the  _gym_ on top of everything else he managed to do?)

“-Fine.  _I’ll_ get some tissues.” 

“You need to go to work,” Brenda reminded him. “And so do  I-“ 

“Not like this, you don’t.” 

She freed her hand from his. “I’ll give it a go-“ Cue more coughing.

“Why bother going at all?” Clark reasoned. “You’ll only make it worse if you have to wait around for one of us to pick you up.” 

“I can  _drive_ , you know!” 

_Try telling that to the paramedics_ , Clark thought grimly. 

“Of course,” he huffed. “But  _you_ know I’ll worry...” 

“Keep worrying and we’ll both be late,” Brenda grumbled. 

Clark glanced at his watch. If he didn’t show up fifteen minutes after class started, his students were legally allowed to leave. 

” _One_ day off won’t hurt them,” he said deliberately.

Brenda frowned, though she appeared more pitiful than she did threatening. Her shoulders slumped. She suddenly seemed very small. 

“So... what?” she sniffled. “You expect me to sit at home while everyone else is gone?”

Clark, being as dense as he was, didn’t realise what she meant until her eyes misted over with tears. 

“Ah...” 

He gently drew her close to him, not caring at all for how he might catch her cold. If there was any way he could absorb all her pain, all her fear, then he would. 

He kissed her head and murmured, “I’m feeling rather out of sorts myself. Maybe I should phone in sick...”

To Brenda’s credit, she protested, “But your students?” 

“They’ve probably all left by now anyway,” he said, shrugging. He would just have to give them twice as much work tomorrow. “Don’t worry about it. Get yourself up to bed and I’ll bring you some tea and toast. How does that sound?”

Finally, Brenda nodded and staggered towards the stairs. “I hope Luke doesn’t catch this,” she muttered.

“I’ll ask Hershel if he can stay with him tonight,” Clark suggested. “Luke will be ecstatic...” 

Brenda looked at him. She mustered up a smile. Despite her affliction, she was as beautiful as ever to Clark. 

“I’m sure he will.” 


End file.
